


When life gives you lemons...

by DarlingHilson (Mycroffed)



Series: Hilson Oneshots [6]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Based on s5 e16, Blind!Wilson, Drabble, M/M, Oneshot, at least I don't think so, braintumor, no spoilers though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/DarlingHilson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A braintumor leaves Wilson blind. How is he going to manage this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When life gives you lemons...

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just a random drabble, something I wrote because I felt like it after watching an episode of House. And maybe a little bit because I was trying to keep posting something daily. I want to keep it up for a week - if I can at least. Anyway. I think I'm five days far so that leaves only two more days. So you'll probably get two more silly oneshots tomorrow and the day after that. I hope you enjoy them all.  
> Thanks for reading, kudo'ing and commenting.  
> Love, the Author

Wilson had been having almost massive headaches for a couple of days now. He had taken multiple Ibuprofen but it hadn’t seemed to help. Of course he hadn’t told House about this, so when the man barged into the office and found the oncologist laying on his couch with his hand over his eyes, the blinds closed and a groan on his lips, he didn’t know what to expect.

“Wilson. Are you still sleeping?”

The oncologist turned around to look at the man in his doorway and squinted. “Headache, piss off.” He mumbled.

“Have you taken any Ibuprofen?” House asked, which earned him an eye roll from Wilson.

“No, I went to medical school and I don’t know when to take painkillers for a headache.”

“Ooh, touchy. I love snappy Wilson.” He smirked, he couldn’t care about the insult, it wasn’t really an insult for him anyway.

“It only got worse the last few days.” He slowly got up and turned to look at the diagnostician. “The painkillers helped the first day, but yesterday…” He shook his head.

“Welcome to my world.”

Wilson glared at his best friend. “Oh, come on, House, have a little sympathy.”

“Come here, I want to do a test.”

Wilson managed to walk over to the man and smiled slightly. “You are worried. You don’t think it’s normal to have a headache that only gets worse for a couple of days without a medical cause.”

“Tell me if you can’t see my finger anymore.” House moved his finger from the middle of Wilson’s field of vision to the edge and about halfway, Wilson mumbled that he couldn’t see it anymore.

“You’re losing your peripheral vision.” House stated.

“Why would that be important?” Wilson shrugged. He could list at least ten diseases or cancers of which that would be a symptom, but he didn’t have any other symptoms. Did he?

“You’re getting an MRI.” House pulled the oncologist’s hand as he walked out of the office.

“You haven’t planned one yet…” he frowned.

“I’ll kick one of the list. This will only take five minutes.”

Wilson huffed. “Yeah sure. House, I’m fine, I’m just getting old.”

“Jimmy…” House sighed again. “Don’t start being difficult.”

“Plan an MRI and then I will come, but you’re not dragging me there right now.”

House eyed the oncologist carefully but nodded. “Okay.” After that, he stalked out of the room and left Wilson alone.

 

*

 

Wilson had managed to make it back to his couch and was still there a couple of hours later. He was getting thirsty so he slowly got up. The room was exceptionally dark – something which made him frown for a moment – but then he shrugged. He must have had fallen asleep and lost track of time. He managed to make it to the door and turned the light on. When the room didn’t get any clearer, the frown on his face only grew deeper.

“House…” He mumbled. “House!”

He grabbed for his pager, which was luckily still hanging on his belt and blindly typed House’s pager number and a message. Then he stumbled to his couch where he almost fell down on, tripping over his own bag. When he heard the door open, he turned around to the sound, his eyes scanning the dark space in front of him.

“Wilson.” It was indeed House in front of him. He sighed relieved and a small smile appeared on his face.

“House…” He leaned against the couch, holding on tight to the sides so that he didn’t fall over.

“You’re blind.” Suddenly, the man’s voice was next to his ear. Wilson jumped slightly, surprised that he hadn’t heard the diagnostician move around.

“I can’t see anything, yeah.” He nodded. He wanted to look at you, but he had no idea where you were exactly. He reached out and House gently took his hands. He squeezed them reassuringly, more gentle than Wilson had ever known him.

“How about that MRI now.” House mumbled. “I’ll get you a wheel chair to get you to the test room.”

“No!” Wilson exclaimed immediately. “No wheel chair. I’ll hold on to your arm. I don’t… I don’t want to _look_ sick. I still have patients, I need to do my job and I can’t do that when they see me as someone weak. I’ll just hold onto your arm.”

House raised his eyebrow. He had always known that the oncologist was particularly attached to his reputation, but this was getting out of hand.

“You’re getting a wheel chair. Either you sit in it without making any trouble out of it or I’ll hit you around the head and you still sit in it without any trouble.”

Wilson glared at what was an empty spot in the room, convinced that House was sitting there.

“We’re not going over this again, Jimmy, you’re either doing it my way or no way.”

The oncologist huffed again but gave in. “Alright. But only for you.”

House nodded. “I’m going to get it now, I’ll be back before you know it.” He let go of Wilson’s hands and got up to get the means to get his best friend to the MRI. He sighed softly. He had always seen himself as the needy one in their relationship, but if this blindness was going to be permanent, that might very well change.

Wilson stayed on the couch, moving as less as he possibly could so that he wouldn’t fall over or trip about anything. House better returned quickly with that wheel chair or he’d never know the end of it. He heard the door opened again and looked up once again.

“House?” His voice was weak and questioning, not knowing who was standing in front of him.

“Cuddy. James, are you okay?” The female voice drifted through his office.

“Yeah, I’m fine. House… he’s going to take me to do an MRI.”

Cuddy frowned slightly. “And why is he going to do that?”

“Because I can’t see anymore.” He growled softly. He imagined the look on Cuddy’s face as he told her this. A look of shock, disbelief and eventually, a look of pity.

And that was exactly what he heard when she opened her mouth again. “Are you sure you’re going to be fine with House?”

“Yes! I trust him. He would never do anything to harm me. Besides, I’m a case now, a puzzle for him to solve. He never gives up on one of those.”

“Who never gives up on what?” House had walked into the office again, pushing a wheel chair. The man walked over to the oncologist and carefully took his arm and led him to the chair. Cuddy eyed the two of them suspiciously, but relaxed slightly when she noticed how caring and gently the diagnostician was.

“Nothing, House, never mind.” Wilson placed foot by foot as he let House lead him. “And thank you.”

House shrugged. “It’s not like I have anything better to do. Plus, I might actually care for once.”

A small smile appeared around Wilson’s lips again. Despite the situation, he knew that he had a friend by his side, who would look after him. House helped his friend down in the chair and as soon as he sat down, started pushing him out of the room, completely ignoring Cuddy.

She trailed after the two of them as House rolled him to the testing room. About halfway there, the diagnostician had to stop and rub his leg. Cuddy pushed him aside and continued walking. House glared briefly before limping after them. Wilson was blissfully ignorant about all this.

The test was done without any trouble and as soon as House saw the results, he frowned deeply. This wasn’t possible. His best friend could _not_ have a brain tumor. The tumor was pushing on the part of the brain that arranged the input from the optical nerves.

“House…?” Wilson called from inside the MRI machines. “What’s wrong?”

He exchanged brief looks with Cuddy before he turned on the microphone. “You’ve got a brain tumor, Wilson.”

The camera inside the MRI showed Wilson’s widened eyes and look of disbelief. “No… I can’t… I need radiation…” He mumbled. “Get me out of here.”

“Wilson, you’re go-”

“Get me out of here!” Wilson snapped.

Cuddy was already running out so that she could help the oncologist out. She handled him as careful as she could as House rolled the wheel chair close again.

“Where…?” House mumbled, surprised by the outburst of his best friend. He had never seen Wilson like this, so… annoyed, like he had almost given up.

“Radiology. And after that home.”

“You can’t stay at home alone.” Cuddy intervened. “You need someone to look after you.”

“I’ll call my mom.” He mumbled. “And stop looking at me like I’m a small cancer kid you have to tell is going to die. Because I’m not, right?” He hesitated slightly. “House?”

“No, you’re not going to die. I’m not going to let you.” He mumbled as Cuddy looked away from Wilson uncomfortably. “And the man knows you, Cuddy.”

“Just get him to radiology, House, and make sure that you’re there until his mother arrives.” Cuddy ordered before she left the room again.

The diagnostician shrugged and brought the man exactly where both he and Cuddy wanted him.

 

*

 

A few days of radiology later, Wilson still couldn’t see anything. His mother had refused to come by – House had no idea why, probably something childhood related, he’d get to that later – so House had decided that it was probably best if he moved in with the oncologist. The man had protested loudly and plenty, but House had made his decision. He had moved all his stuff to the man’s loft and was now living in Wilson’s spare room. Every morning, the first thing he did was check on Wilson, help him get dressed and make him breakfast. While the man was eating, he would dress himself and then eat himself. Wilson would then thank him and House would drive them to the hospital.

Cuddy couldn’t believe that it was a blind James Wilson who had managed to get House to come to work on time, behave himself and generally be nice to other people besides himself. She had never seen such a nice side of the man, so caring for his best friend.

House made sure that Wilson was scheduled for another MRI a week after they had found the brain tumor. He was sure the thing would be gone by then – he had seen it disappear faster with some other patients – but he was scared about the oncologist’s vision. If it wouldn’t return, that would mean that he would need to live with the man unless he found a nurse to take over.

By the time it neared noon, House walked out of his office, straight to Wilson’s office. He couldn’t do any paperwork or read any mails – his underlings would be able to handle that – but he could meet up with the patients. He practically knew his files by heart anyway. Wilson wasn’t working with a patient at the moment House walked in. There was nothing he could do without any patients, so he was sitting behind his desk, just staring at the wall at the other side of the room, even though he couldn’t see that.

“Hey. Want to get lunch?” House smiled softly.

“Love to.” Wilson pushed himself back on his feet and feeling his way around the room, he managed to get to the wheel chair next to the room and sit down. “I’m really hungry.”

House grinned and rolled his best friend to the cafeteria, where he paid for both their food. It was when they were both sitting at the table nibbling on their food that House opened his mouth again.

“Wilson… Since we are living together… There are some things we need to talk about.”

Wilson tilted his head curiously. “Go ahead. Talk.”

House sighed softly as he looked at the oncologist. His hair was mussed, untended and it had started to look like the diagnostician’s. This wasn’t the Wilson he knew anymore. He had always been proud and independent, he worked hard and he loved his work. Now he couldn’t do his work properly, he was dependent on others and his pride was close to the point of breaking and crumbling.

“Jimmy… I’m not the one to look after you. You should find someone else.”

Wilson frowned. “But… House…”

“I’m not good for you. You should see yourself, Wilson, you’re nothing like you used to be.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to… I _need_ you, House. I… I need to tell you something.” He took a deep breath. “I… I think I love you.”

The man opposite him suddenly grew quiet. He felt the same, had always felt like this, but he had pushed it down for so long… This was impossible. He had waited for so long to hear these words from the oncologist, but he had never imagined that this would be the situation they’d be in. The man was blind and there was no sign of any improvement yet, even after a week.

“Greg…?” Wilson mumbled, not knowing why the man was quiet for so long. “Please say something.”

“I… I think I love you too.” House mumbled softly. “But… we can’t do this. We can’t risk our friendship like this. I’m supposed to look after you right now.”

“I’d rather have you like… like this than go back to what we had before.” He sighed. “Please, House, I…”

The man sighed and nodded. “Alright. We can try. I… I just hope that your blindness goes away.”

“Me too, House, me too.” He took the diagnostician’s hands and lifted them up to his mouth to press a soft kiss to them.

House smiled softly. No matter what happened, they would be alright. They would always be alright.


End file.
